


The Untold Story of Sacramento

by lavinda



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Nico di Angelo, Dorks in Love, Fuckbuddies To Lovers, I'm Sorry, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Pining, Top Percy Jackson, basically a lady bird au, but if you didn't watch it it's fine you can read it anyways, nico is kyle, nico's also bisexual, the year is 20-something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavinda/pseuds/lavinda
Summary: I made exactly four attempts to get myself a love life in the city of Sacramento, which already sounds like one hell of a long shot. Nico di Angelo was the one who could change the status quo, but didn't feel like it, which sounds as a shot that's even longer.





	The Untold Story of Sacramento

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, so. first off, i only speak english on a daily basis for like a year, and i definitely lack the vocab and have some grammar mistakes, so please!!! feel free to point them out. also, it's my first time writing a fic in english, but not the first time writing in general (been doing it for 4 years already, so it's not that bad.)  
> so i watched lady bird last month and the moment i saw chalamet on screen i was like oh boy these di angelo vibes, because i totally hc that a 16-year-old nico looks like him. the idea just popped into my head, and i started writing it in the beginning of august, and it was a bit challenging but really beneficial; i didn't feel so inspired for months. feedback is greatly appreciated!!!  
> enjoy

You know what? If you'll ever get a chance to get to know me, which would be an unfortunate occasion (for you, of course), I kindly offer you to not ask me about how to meet your significant other. Or a not-so-significant other, if you prefer. It's not that I have more than one significant other, or they are insignificant, or whatever, sorry if that doesn't make any fucking sense. It's just that I've seriously messed up and no longer know if I'm qualified enough to talk about healthy, clear, and, most importantly, monogamous relationships.

Well, let's start without further ado, if you please. Let me tell you the whole story about my four attempts at having some sort of a relationship in the goddamn city of Sacramento.

To the definitions: I am, in fact, from New York. I was fourteen when my mother moved to California, surely enough taking me with her. Here, I started attending a Catholic high school, and I still don't understand why on earth that happened. Like, really. Mom never was a Catholic or religious whatsoever, I never gave a damn, and my father never showed up. I'm from a pretty common one-parent family, suffering from ADHD and dyslexia, and for some reason I am in a fucking Catholic school. Not that the students here were all religious, though. Quite the opposite. There even were some minor protests on campus during my first year; a blond girl and a really tall guy who I believed was her brother organized an 'illegal' protest club. For no reason. We still had biology and yes, they taught us the Darwin theory. No shit.

Here's some advice: If there's 'Catholic' and 'coed' standing in one line, then it's complete and utter bullshit. I mean, how the hell were they supposed to keep the place religious with all of us studying together? Maybe it was all about the school being historically Christian, because we had a huge dining room with a pompous painting of Jesus and the apostles, or saints, or whatever, on one of the walls. Also, our headmistress was a nun; I suppose that covered the religious part.

And yeah, just my luck: the blond girl who was always occupied with protests and whatnot also was my first girlfriend.

Annabeth Chase was the name. Back in New York I promised to myself that I'd never date a girl who will be way too smart for me, and I failed to fulfill this promise in California, apparently. Because I dated Annabeth, and she was just so smart that she wouldn't explain anything to me if I wanted a bit of sparing the details, just calling me Seaweed Brains instead.

And what was so wrong with seaweed, after all?

We broke up after awkwardly trying to have some PDA for about four months. Being honest, she dumped me. It just sort of happened; one day, I came to school and she was avoiding me, and when I finally bumped right into her in the hallway and tried to hug her, she said that I wasn't her boyfriend anymore and she's now going out with Luke Castellan.

It was that stupid. Freshman year is always stupid.

After that, there was Calypso, and that's when it actually started getting illegal, because she was a librarian in our school. I know, right? But after school, in teeny-tiny cafes that she adored so much, she was just a 21-year-old girl desperate for some affection. It didn't occur to her that seeing a random sophomore from her workplace couldn't help her much. At the very end, I lost my virginity to her, and it was kinda gross but still felt awesome.

(Sorry if that grosses you out too, because there is nothing pretty in a 15-year-old guy trying to have sex for the first time, but if you decided to listen to my story please stay tuned until the very end.)

The very next morning, suddenly finding herself naked in a bed with a minor, she freaked out and quit both her job and our relationship, and after a really heated argument with lots of tears and uncalled insults she just left, and I haven't had a chance to see her ever again.

Heads up, the next part is a bit funnier.

After her was Rachel. I don't even know why I keep getting pretty girls, I'm not all that good-looking myself, but Rachel was just gorgeous with that fiery-red hair of hers. Unfortunately, that was the best part of her whole personality. She appeared to be an always-grumpy and extremely overprotective kind of girlfriend, holding my hand in the hallways all the time even when I didn't feel like it and devouring the soul out of me every single time we kissed. I was feeling so free after we broke up that I almost dislocated my shoulder trying to get to the rooftop of my house using the tree outside (speaking of the extremes).

After all of that happening in roughly three years, I was absolutely fine with not having a girlfriend, 'cause the shit just wasn't worth it _. I now have tried holding hands and making out and having sex_ , I thought, _I don't even need this anymore since the teenage part of me is satisfied with all these sacrifices. I won't date anyone until college._

At that point, I was pretty sure about it; that being said, let me remind you that I haven't met Nico di Angelo just yet. Shit's about escalate quickly, so fasten your seatbelts.

It was a September evening of my senior year at school when I came up with an unoriginal idea to go out with my almost-friends to have fun and maybe a drink, and just forget about everything for a while. Like, it didn't need to be a really popular place, just some random cozy little club in our neighborhood. When we finally found the place that fit out preferences, I ordered a beer, and another one, and another, until it felt like I'm not a seventeen-year-old loser with a couple of disorders trying to go back to the East Coast but constantly failing. There was some local band playing on stage, with a really beautiful drummer girl (it was the first time I've ever seen a drummer girl) and a creepy bassist who was fidgeting a bit as if he was high. After playing a couple of songs or whatever, I didn't really care, they just casually hopped down from the stage. The frontman guy and the bassist made a beeline for the bar, whilst the drummer girl headed to some rooms in the backstage, which I found quite disappointing.

The frontman's name was Will, and I soon found out that he was the type of guy I hated the most. The I Radiate Sunshine And If You Hate It You'll Learn To Love It type of guy, yeah. Unfortunately, I was too drunk to tell him to fuck off so there were two options: either start a fight or get over with it. I was sure I was going to get beaten up if I chose the former option, so I just kept pretending to be all into small talks with strangers. That's how I got acquainted with Nico di Angelo, the bassist of Demigod Power.

"Do you have a cellphone?" was the first question he asked. Usually I just played it cool, because no, I didn't have a cellphone, as lame as it might sound. Really? I just didn't need one, but it was considered _not cool_ in the school and everywhere. This time I couldn't offer him anything more than a shake of my head. His attitude towards me has immediately changed; I literally saw his eyes lightening up.

"S'really smart of you. They're basically tracking devices, and I already have enough of some third-party companies watchin' me, don't ya think?"

I nodded, taking a sip of Budweiser. I didn't quite get what the guy was talking about, but his voice was really calm, and smooth, and overall nice, and just sounded like a lullaby. I was fine with him sitting next to me and sharing his conspiracy theories about the President, some other politicians, Silicon Valley and the STEM field. Occasionally I checked on him in case he was already asleep and had a sort of lunatic stuff going on, but apparently he was dead serious about it. After a while I just started shamelessly staring at him in the mixture of disbelief and curiosity. He stared back, his dark eyes with an undecipherable look in them giving me shivers. His messy raven curls fit his sharp features: high cheekbones, a pointy nose, and accurately shaped pink lips. The whole expression on his face was pretty phlegmatic and laid-back.

"You up for a smoke?" he asked at some point, looking so sober after three shots of tequila that I felt envious of him.

"Sure thing," I replied, failing to realize that I didn't smoke.

So he took me to some backyard-looking place near the club. When I didn't move after he asked me for a lighter, he let out a small chuckle.

"So you don't smoke."

"No, not really."

"Figures."

And the second I wanted to ask him if that was a problem, he stepped closer and kissed me.

Whoa, hold on a minute. So a handsome guy I've met like an hour ago just dragged me into a creepy-looking backyard and kissed me all out of the blue. Sounds just like Percy Jackson's life.

His lips were so soft that I couldn't help but bite them. He choked for a sec, but snuggled up to me, wrapping a long arm around my neck. He was shorter than me, 3 inches or so, and since our lips were suddenly on the same level I assumed that he stood on his toes. I also assumed that he was notorious for being a buzzkilller, because as soon as I forgot that I was kissing a stranger and started enjoying it, shoving my tongue down his throat and maybe being a bit handsy, he suddenly broke it and backed off, panting heavily.

"D'you use Colgate mouthwash?"

 _What_.

"Nope," I said, hoping that the answer was right so we could continue our casual makeout session or start it over, I didn't really mind.

"Good for ya. They put chemicals in there so you get tooth decay and other nasty stuff. Just wanted to make sure if you're contagious."

I was pretty sure that every single toothpaste producer uses chemicals, and you can't get yourself a cavity while kissing, but after roughly an hour of talking to Nico and two minutes of making out with him I got that the guy was insufferable and I better not try to talk him out of anything at all. Instead of this, I nodded and made an understanding sound. He seemed to be satisfied with it, as he promptly sank down to his knees and pulled me closer by my belt loops.

 _Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwa-_ I heard my brain wheezing. Just. Because. Apparently, Nico was going down on me, which was my first ever sexual experience in this particular field, and he was a guy, which didn't really make any difference, but it was my first time in these terms too, and finally, we were literally in the fucking backyard, and anyone could enjoy the show if they walked into us by accident. Like I said, this part is funny.

I felt dizzy, only able to focus for a few moments on tiny details in the blurry world around me - like a street lamp, or a trash can in the furthest corner, or Nico's dark hair - I used the latter one to stop the world from spinning, grasping it a little too forcefully.

Though Nico liked it I guess, since he sent me a quick look from down there, and I suddenly choked on air with how lustful his eyes were. He started unbuckling my belt twice as fast, muttering something to himself when he finally took my dick out. I was hoping that it's a compliment; I would totally adore my dick, its perfect size and overall gorgeousness if I were on his place. I'm not the bragging type, still.

Thankfully, he hadn't asked me if I washed it with a Marks & Spencer soap before I felt his slick wet tongue gently licking the tip. He tongued it almost hungrily before he went for a frenulum, and that was the moment I finally lost my train of thought and tugged his hair even harder. It must've been painful, but he hadn't protested at all, quickly taking my whole length inside without any visible struggle.

It was insane: the warmness of his mouth and the softness of his lips, the way he rubbed his face against my dick like a fucking cat with his mouth wide open and his eyes shut close, and yeah, he was high and drunk, because he was enjoying himself so much with his mouth stuffed full of cock. The whimper-y sounds he started to produce when I finally thrust myself down his throat were just over the top; they made me come right inside his mouth in under three minutes. He spit half of my cum out on the concrete, swallowing the other half down with a muffled noise of disgust.

I really expected something like _you really don't know when to quit_ in a threatening tone, but instead he lazily smiled at me and said, "So you gonna help me standin' up or what?"

I immediately extended my arm, and he got back on his feet, bright red spots on his knees easily noticeable through wide holes in his jeans.

We walked back to the bar entrance, him being apparently comfortable with a deafening silence between us. I was trying to come up with anything appropriate, but I wasn't quite sure if _thanks for a great blowjob_ would be good enough.

"I should be leaving now," he finally said, stopping right next to the doors. "See you in school, I guess."

"Wait, wh- _you're from my school_?" I asked in stupefaction. The thought of him probably being from this neighborhood, let alone my school, never really visited me; his features could easily belong to a fifteen-year-old and up to twenty-something.

"Well, I guess not in case you've got a senior twin brother going to Saint Benedict's," he shrugged.

"Which grade are you in then?"

"I'm a junior."

"How come I've never seen you before?"

"That you can figure out yourself. Later."

With that, he stepped inside the club, leaving me frozen up on the street.

I found my friends occupying exactly the same spots, their drinks almost untouched as though I never left. When I suggested them to head back home, they were happy to support this brilliant idea.

The rest of that sleepless night I spent lying on my bed, wondering what would've happened if only Nico was more welcoming towards my hesitant questions, because after the alcoholic dizziness was gone I suddenly had loads of them.

In the next few months, I've never gotten a chance to ask any.

Our first encounter in school happened, as you could've expected, in the locker-room. I was changing after a Fitness class which was the last period, and he was getting ready for his softball practice. He looked so different in his blue sports shorts and a red t-shirt that I couldn't take my eyes off him. He ended up dragging me into the bathroom and missing the practice.

That escalated quickly, just like I said. Nico made me wonder if I was unobservant or just dumb, because he was pretty infamous in our school. Ditching lessons for fun (and fuck) which I have never thought of before became a weekly occurrence; he introduced me to cigarettes (yuck) and weed (this one was even better than beer) and yeah - gay sex, obviously enough.

And yet, if you decided that we were all buddy-buddy or even boyfriends, it wasn't anything like that. I was taking up, like, five percent of his daily plans. He spent most of his day somewhere which he briefly described as 'around' if I asked him. I was sure that he continued sleeping around with people, although oftentimes he preferred me over anyone else, sometimes spending hours at my place before jumping out of the window (I live on the first floor, no worries) and disappearing without saying a word.

By the way, his accent reminded me of a Californian one blended with Midwestern, if that makes any sense. Sometimes he sounded totally New York-ish, and sometimes he was getting way too Southern for me to comprehend.

"I was a virgin before you, y'know," he said to me one day, absentmindedly doodling something on my knee with a permanent marker. We were in my room, lying on the bed, with our legs entangled and my hand in his locks.

"You said that you slept with six people before me, like, last week," I flatly replied. I was already used to him saying something like this when I absolutely didn't see it coming; moreover, I was certain that he's slept with so much more people. Six was the lowest number he could ever come up with.

"Oh really?" he looked up at me, ruining the whole drawing with a thick black line crossing it. It kinda hurt. "Don't really recall doing that."

"We were getting high in the bathroom," I reminded him. We had a truly great time; I gave him a handjob while messily kissing him on the neck. He never covered those hickeys, showing them as blatantly as he did with everything else.

"Well, I meant that I was a virgin in this particular way," and when I gave him a befuddled look, he snapped, "You were the first to ever fuck me, you idiot."

"Oh," I said in a surprised tone. " _Oh_."

He looked up at me in amusement, snorting loudly.

"So, you've heard all that fuss with guys kissin' in the bathroom?" he changed the subject, which I was quite grateful for. Not that this was an awkward topic to discuss, since we'd been fooling around for about three months now, but sometimes I felt really at a loss for words with him.

He started singing that song about not closing a goddamn door, and I giggled. He had a nice singing voice, I could give him that. Maybe it was obvious, considering that there was the whole band thing.

"But like, really. We were smoking pot in that exact stall and nobody gave a crap."

"You think we gotta fuck in there to prove that it's always about closin' the goddamn door?"

"Haven't we already?"

We burst into laughter, starting with low chuckles and eventually roaring like the fucking hyenas we were.

Sometimes I felt like I was in love with the way he laughed. He always covered up his mouth like he was afraid of his lips curling in some weird shape which I found absolutely ridiculous. He never opened up to me except for these very moments, when the lines forming in the corners of his eyes proved that he was being genuine about it. He never was genuine. He had a certain set of masks he used to hide behind in school and basically around people. In school, he was That Guy with a mysterious aura around him and an uninterested look in his eyes; playing in a band, using the I Don't Care But Still Look Handsome clothing style and fooling around with a lot of people, girls primarily, just added up to tons of rumors about him. I knew for sure that he slept with at least three girls during the first two month of our occasional hookups. Never heard of any guys, though. I was lucky if I got a chance to be with him, like, twice per week.

The last month was different. I got a part-time job in the cafe around school, and he developed an unhealthy habit of coming in at random time, ordering an Americano, and dragging me into a storage room for a good fuck. That didn't last long since my manager Piper once caught us with our tongues glued together. I wouldn't wish any of you to experience this, it was humiliating, embarrassing, and arousing at the same time. Good thing that we had a private bathroom for staff so I could jack off at the thought of her running into me fucking Nico senseless against the wall.

Back to the topic. The thing is, at moments like this, when we were acting like an actual couple and doing stuff that actual couples do, like laughing at something together, or lying in the bed and doing pretty much nothing, or caressing each other's hair - at moments like this I felt like we could've had this if only Nico wanted to. Okay, I always felt like it.

Because Nico was fucking... adorable. Stunning. Enchanting. Whatever, I just really wanted to clear up our relationship. I wanted him to be with me for real, I fucking wanted to call him my boyfriend.

Nico never brought this up, and I figured why. There was one episode in November that helped me in understanding this.

There was this guy, Jason Grace. A stereotypical jock, the grossest one you'd ever meet, I assure you. He always acted like a Golden Boy around teachers, but leave him alone with a bunch of teenagers, and you'll find out that he's nothing more than a spoiled brat with a superiority complex. That's everything I have to say about him. So that day, he started picking on Nico just for the sake of it. He called him a school bicycle (which I wasn't denying) and a cockslut from a dysfunctional family of a drunkard and a cancerous son of a bitch (which was _so_ uncalled for, because I firmly believed that I was the only one who was allowed to fuck him, and I knew nothing about his family.) Nico's face didn't lose its absolutely indifferent expression throughout Jason's passionate speech; but when he finally stopped rattling on about how Nico basically fucked everyone in school while being 'a stinking misfit' (which was really funny because Nico smelled of lavender and I fucking loved it), he stood up from his seat, all 5'7 of him ready to make a comeback, and I just kinda jumped in with, "You jackass better go fuck yourself."

Which was an adequate amount of effort, don't you think? I was expecting Nico to smile at me brightly and just wreck this dickhead.

But what I wasn't expecting was a low growl of, "Shut the fuck up, Jackson."

Coming from Nico.

The main problem was that he never really called me by my last name. It always was _Percy_ , or _Perce_ if he was in a good mood which was a rare occasion, or _Perseus_ when he was mad at me which happened way more often, but never _Jackson_.

I dumbfoundedly followed his order, and my mouth snapped shut.

Later that day, I met him under the bleachers, which was a kind of a weekly tradition for us. Except for that day, he wouldn't answer to my hesitant, "Hiya there."

Instead, he turned his whole body to face me, and for the first time I felt like I was shorter than him, with raging fire in his eyes and a cruel crook of his mouth telling me to  _run_.

I felt like a little child who was being scolded, and it was just so pathetic.

"Don't you _ever_ fucking try to fucking protect me, you asshole," he slowly mouthed, looking deadly and incredibly sexy. I wish I could have him riding me right there and then. "I am perfectly capable of defending myself without your fucking help."

"Look, I-"

“If you just randomly decided to get all chivalrous with me, then it's about time for you to realize I am not a freaking damsel in distress. Your half-assed attempts to make me look like one are neither needed nor appreciated."

"Nico, that's not-"

"That's what you're really up to," he stated bluntly, not in the slightest degree hesitating about his words. "You really have a hero complex, Jackson, and I'm fine with it. Just don't you _dare_ put it in a full mode around me."

 _No_ , I wanted to say, _I never wanted to be a hero_. I was a total failure, and I wonder how come I haven't become a high school dropout last year. It was highly likely that I would eventually go to community college because I never bothered myself with thinking about college as a whole, despite it being my senior year. My nearest future? Being a Subway employee, probably. And Nico, the whole thing that was going between us was a fucking silver lining, a chance to prove to myself, and him, and everyone, that I was worth it; worth him. I never thought of him like of a damsel in distress, or weak and vulnerable, really. It was just natural - me wanting to protect him. That's what I do with people who I care for, that including my mother and him.

The problem was that he himself didn't want it. He was a loner, that guy, always walling off whenever I tried to reach him and tell him that I was there for him, because I truly was. It didn't bother me that he was basically a troubled kid from a broken home, 'cause, like, wasn't that true for at least a half of the kids in the country? I myself haven't met my father once in my life, and my mom was struggling to get a good job here in California since she never got her college degree. Like I said, it wasn't any better in my case. But still, he wouldn't trust me with that. That's why he was totally okay with us being fuckbuddies and doing some couple-y stuff from time to time; he always relied upon himself, he had been doing this for a while, and that's why it was a big deal for him. He assumed that I wouldn't respect his independence and self-reliance, that I was planning on chaining him up or something, but his conclusions were way off.

That's what I wanted to tell him, but I've never been good with words. Instead of spilling this mess out I just said, "It's Percy for you. Will always be this way."

"Whatthefuckever," he spit out venomously and, turning on his heels, quickly walked away.

We got back together a week after that incident, when he came to my cafe as he always did, and ordered an Americano as he always did, and when he was handing me the money I just leaned over the counter and kissed him. I missed the sensation of his soft lips against mine, and his perfect skin, and don't even let me start on this one. A guy at one of the tables commented something about getting a room at us, immediately shutting up after Nico had sent him a dreadful look. If only I wasn't afraid of getting fired after being caught with a guy while at work for the second time, I wouldn't've hesitated to give him what he wanted so badly the very moment I saw that needy expression on his face.

He was so beautiful when he pouted.

We never talked about the whole Jason thing after that. When I tried to initiate this, he cut me off with, "I'm not having this conversation with you." There wasn't much I could do; just showing him that I cared wasn't enough, but it was the limit set by Nico himself. I tried to be around him that December, always serving him drinks on the house (the fact of which I somehow managed to cover, or maybe Piper was just being really nice to us) and asking him to stay for the night when it was pretty obvious that he didn't want to go home. When I started to listen to rumors, I found out why I've never been invited over to the di Angelo household.

Jason was right, but I finally realized it when there were only five hours left until Christmas.

While my mom was busy in our tiny kitchen, preparing endless amounts of various types of blue food (you're definitely missing out on ravioli dyed in blue), I was tidying up my room, left alone with my thoughts, which never was a good occurrence. Sometimes quiet is violent, oh yeah. What I was thinking about was the next year; I was supposed to go to college, you know. There were only 6 days left until the application deadline for most schools, and I was so dumb. I was oh so dumb. Because right after applying to colleges in Sacramento and Oakland, I said _screw it_ and talked to mom about the East Coast.

She wasn't happy about it, I knew that for certain. We were living in California for four years already, and she finally left her job in the candy store and was now working in the library (I heard that snicker of yours, hun. It has nothing to do with Calypso.) We adjusted and adapted, and I wasn't whining about the lack of rain more than once per week now. Going back to the East Coast meant inevitable thousands of miles between us, because she couldn't make it back to New York with me.

Yet, we completed my FAFSA application together, and she helped me with my new, rewritten essay, because she was the most understanding and supportive mother in the world.

My newly written essay was the only thing I actually liked about my application. I talked about how our difference from others and 'strangeness' made us stronger, and how being confused and uncertain can also be beneficial. I personally thought that I was the most ordinary guy here in Sacramento, but that wasn't exactly true. I loved blue food, wasn't that at least moderately weird? I could sit next to water for hours and hold my breath for an enormous amount of time. I also had an ongoing affair with Nico di Angelo, a guy who used conspiracy theories and an image of an enigmatic kid as a coping mechanism.

Speaking of which.

I heard a knock on the window that I would've definitely missed if only the room wasn't so quiet. I was considering putting on some Ramones CDs Nico kindly gave me, but the idea was quickly dropped after I realized that I lacked a CD player. I looked over my shoulder, every single thought in my head immediately vanishing in a poof when I saw Nico standing outside, desperately trying to find something (presumably me) in my room through a partly closed curtain, but that wasn't what shocked me the most. Nico's eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks still a bit shiny from tears.

I've never ever seen him crying before.

He teared up during our Disney movie night (yep, we had a movie night, and still he wouldn't talk about our relationship. I know, right?), which he was stubbornly denying, but honestly? I never thought I will ever catch sight of Nico actually, full-on crying. This just seemed so surreal.

And here he was, looking so... fragile. Something that he was so afraid to show that he would go from phlegmatic to passive-aggressive in a matter of seconds if you mentioned it.

I jumped to the window, cracking it open. Whilst helping Nico climbing up to the windowsill, I noticed that he jerked away from my touch as if it was burning.

Then, I practically dragged him to my bed, making sure he was comfortable with sitting like that; he didn't say anything in protest. The very moment I wanted to ask him what happened, he sobbed loudly and burst into tears, hiding his face in the crook of my neck.

"Nico," I whispered, feeling the fabric of my loose t-shirt getting wet in a half-minute, "Neeks, baby. It's- just listen to me, alright? It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine. You're here with me, it's all gonna be alright."

I kept murmuring these shallow words in his ear, hugging his petite body and kissing his earlobe and the back of his neck. He quivered under my arms as I asked him what was wrong. I suspected that my shoulder was also drooled into, but I didn't mind at all. The only thing that mattered to me were the muffled whimpers that he was failing to hide.

"Perce," he finally mumbled, still not looking up at me, but at least it was something. "I just, I can't- I don't," he struggled to find a right word, clenching my bedspread, "I don't know how to-"

I stroked his hair, telling him to take his time as there was no rush at all. It was far past eight pm when he calmed down enough to tell me.

It turned out that his father was cancerous in a literal way - he was diagnosed with leukemia in June and received no treatment since then, partly because he bull-headedly refused to, partly because they didn't have enough money to cover the expenses, which I hated to hear at first - but not after Nico told me that he used to get beaten up on a monthly basis by him and karma is a fucking bitch. I also learned that his mother was an Italian immigrant and started drinking heavily long before the diagnosis was revealed, and both of them didn't take part in their son's life for years, after his older sister died in an accident the essence of which he didn't exactly specify.

I was sitting there dumbstruck, realization slowly starting to sink in. He kept it covered since September, quickly dropping the subject if I suggested him to try out his place, or never mentioning how his weekends and holidays went; I overheard that he spent Thanksgiving with his pseudo-friend Frank and his girlfriend. He had been successfully ignoring the maladaptive environment in his own house for the whole year, but now it was Christmas, and with all of the 'happy functional family' fluff around him, he just couldn't take it anymore.

Damn, he was only sixteen. He deserved taking a break; he deserved so much more.

I gave him everything I was capable of. As eloquently as I could I explained that I'd catch him if he fell, and I'd be ready to reach out to help him if he asked. I guess that sounded really cheesy, but I couldn't help it. Everything's cheesy in real life, after all.

I let him cry on on my shoulder until his sobs trailed off, leaving us in a comfortable silence. When he was feeling good enough to raise his head up, I left a gentle kiss on his reddened nose.

"I need to wash my face," he whispered in a hoarse voice. I escorted him to the bathroom right next to my room; my mom was too engrossed in cooking to notice it.

When we were back in my bed, he let me wrap my hands around him once again and be the biggest spoon in the universe.

When it was around nine already, my mom energetically busted into the room without any warning, as she always did, only to find a scrawny teenager lying on top of me, snoring slightly with his mouth agape.

For your information: my mom and Nico never were officially acquainted. Every single time we had sex in my house happened right after school (and only once was before, but we managed to be really quiet), when she was still at work; the movie night was organized during her night shift. Even if she spotted any suspicious stains and substances on my sheets, she never brought this up. I never thought of introducing Nico to her, either. How do you imagine this? Like, _hey mom, this is my fuckbuddy, I met him in a random club and he sucked me off nearly an hour after that, and it all went down from there_?

"Hey mom," I finally spoke up, vainly trying to replace the other part of what I came up with with something more appropriate. Nico stirred, starting to wake up.

"Perseus," was everything my mom said. Oh no, not again. Why the heck do people keep saying this? " _God almighty_. Why didn't you let this young gentleman in using a door? Is that _too_ much to ask for?"

My eyes widened in surprise when I realized that she wasn't scolding me for hugging a kid she's never seen before as if he was my fucking teddy bear. With that thought, I saw Nico finally opening his eyes.

There was an awkward silence when he sat up in a bed using my hip as a support and gave my mother an examining look, still half-asleep. When it finally clicked, he practically jumped to his feet.

"Hi Mrs Jackson," was everything he could possibly produce.

"That's Sally for you," she smiled, being probably the only person in the room who wasn't dying of embarrassment. "Are you Percy's friend?"

"Yeah?" he replied in a shilly-shally way, not looking in her eyes.

"Well, that's a really pleasant thing to hear then. Do you wanna stay with us for Christmas?"

He looked at me in astonishment. I gave him an encouraging nod, not quite processing what was going on as well.

"...Yes, please? I mean, if you're fine with it, and I'm not being a-"

"Oh no, totally not," she enthusiastically shook her head. "Quite the opposite. Sometimes it gets a bit lonely with only two people at the table, don't you think so Percy?"

"Yes, mom. Yeah, you're right."

"Dinner will be ready in half an hour, that's what I wanted to say in the first place. You can come help me with the table if you aren't busy with anything."

"No, we aren't. We'll be there in five minutes."

"Oh, I'm sure you aren't," she teased, leaving the room before any of us could answer.

Nico turned back at me again, bloom evident in his cheeks. Whoa. There's a first time for everything, right?

"Duuuude," he groaned, crawling back into the bed and resting his head on my chest, "What the _fuck_. I once was caught by a 50-year-old redneck while having sex with his daughter, and even that was less terrifying."

"You didn't have sex with a redneck's daughter," I rebutted.

"Fine, you got me," he admitted with a low giggle. "But the point remains."

"It wasn't that bad though," I tried to point out.

"I guess." And then, in a small voice, "You really okay with me stayin' here tonight?"

He didn't mention Christmas, as though he decided that after him saying this out loud, it сould suddenly struck me that he was invading my family's privacy and ruining my holiday.

"Yeah. I mean, why wouldn't I?"

"I don't even have any presents."

"That hardly matters."

He went quiet for a few seconds.

"I can hear your heart beating."

I ran my hand through his hair, "I really hope you can."

"I was trying to be poetic here, y'know."

"Great effort, bud. Gonna faint right now."

"Grouch."

"Ouch," I deadpanned, grinning. "Now that was poetic, it rhymes at least."

"We should get going," he tried to push himself up, but it looked like I was a magnet and he was a little innocent peace of iron that just couldn't resist my _magnetic_ attractiveness.

"You really gonna quit it, aren't you?"

"No fucking way. And wipe that shit-eating grin off your stupid face, you fucker."

He was now smiling and punching me in the shoulder, which wasn't painful at all, and it felt like a load off.

Our definition of five minutes stretched into ten minutes of poking fun at each other and cuddling (although usually Nico was as cuddly as a cactus), but mom didn't mention it when we finally entered the kitchen.

That was the best Christmas I had here in California.

Mom and Nico have gotten along really well (although first few minutes were really awkward,) and I couldn't want anything more than that; I didn't interrupt a casual conversation about Dean Martin singing in the background and me being an idiot they had while we were setting the table. He wasn't taken aback by all the blue food, either: he was on close terms with my fridge already, always devouring all the blueberry yogurts the moment he saw them.

The conversation continued with us sitting at the table already, now including me. We talked about Sacramento, and our school, and Demigod Power; my mom, like a tactful woman she was, didn't mention Nico's family or anything that could possibly darken his mood. He was almost glowing with happiness after two or three dishes, shy smile on his face making my heart pound hard in my chest. It was such a rare sight, and I could enjoy it for three hours straight.

When the clock struck half-past twelve, we were back in my room, my mom placing dirty dishes in the dishwasher in the kitchen. She didn’t even question if Nico was going to sleep in my bed as it wasn’t needed considering what she walked into earlier. As for me, I was a little bit confused. That was the first time Nico and I would sleep together, and you are perfectly aware what _this_ ‘sleep’ stands for. I saw him lying like this plenty of times, but with a blanket pulled all the way up over his chest, quiet and peaceful? Not for once.

“Can I turn the lights off?”

“Go ahead.”

“And what about a goodnight kiss?”

“What ‘bout it?”

“You’re not gonna give me one?”

“Jeez, I’m literally in your bed,” he groaned. “Just go on with the lights.”

“But it’s a tradition. You give me a kiss and I turn the lights off, and then we cuddle for the rest of the night.”

“Y’know what, Perce? Fuck you.”

With that, he buried his face in my pillow and pretended to be dead, not quitting even when I leaned down to peck him on his exposed neck.

“Well, guess this counts for a kiss,” I sighed, finally switching the lights off.

And, by the way, I did cuddle him for the rest of the night, waking up with his back pressed against my chest. What surprised me was that I, a healthy, sexually active seventeen-year-old adolescent, didn’t have a morning boner, taking into account that my partner (I suppose I can call him that without assuming things), apart from everything else, also had his ass grinding against my crotch. (I kind of still wonder if it was an unconscious reflex.)

Let me be honest here, we didn’t have fluffy Christmas morning sex when he woke up shortly after I did, maybe because I apparently aged up to seventy years in one night and no longer had any sex drive left, but mostly because my mom was already doing something in the kitchen. If all of the angsty teen movies I’ve seen taught me something, it totally was ‘don’t have sex while your parents are at home’.

Still, we didn’t miss the fluffy part as he had to brush his teeth with my toothbrush, and then I insisted on combing his hair (which I never really did myself,) and with all of his grumpy remarks it felt like we were an old married couple. It gets suspicious if you recall my sudden seventy-year-old, no-libido state in the morning.

The Unwrapping Presents part was rather enjoyable. Nico tried to leave before that, but it’s not like he could go anywhere at 10 am on Christmas Day, which he tried to ignore. Of course, I didn’t listen to his poor excuses for a single moment. Good thing we didn’t have a tradition to have an infinitely huge pile of presents under the Christmas Tree like a stereotypical white family in the movies. Yep, that was a stereotypical _rich_ white family. Guess which adjective didn’t fit us.

So we just handed presents to each other; I got adorable shark-patterned swim trunks and a few DVDs, and mom was so happy with a herbal tea set and a face moisturizer that she mentioned once back in New York and that also cost me a shit load of money.

Side note once again: I was promoted to a deputy manager because Piper actually was nice and kindly forgot the whole thing with Nico, and that also meant a salary bump. Which felt absolutely amazing. I now could afford a pizza box whenever I felt like it, or a cigarette pack for Nico, or good condoms that did fit my size and weren’t poked beforehand. Yes, that did happen, but that’s an another story for another time.

And we’re back in my house right in the middle of the unwrapping presents session. It's obvious that my mom wasn’t expecting Nico joining us for Christmas, but she still got him a present, some expensive-looking chocolate candies (which she presumably prepared for me, but I didn’t mind at all.) After a quite awkward exchange of apologies for breaking into our house all of a sudden, determined denying of that, and finally warmest gratitude from both sides, we headed back to my room.

That was when I finally gave him my present, hidden in a small box. It was a silver-y ring with a skull on it. I heard a lot of bullcrap about how the jewelry as a Christmas present was so common and overrated, but honestly, the moment I saw it in that shop I knew that it was Nico’s. I saw him wearing it on his middle finger and flipping someone off with it, and I just knew it.

He promptly put the ring on, right on his middle finger, his lips starting to curl into an amused smile.

“Good taste you have here.”

“Learned from the best.”

“You really tryin’ to seduce me right now, aren’t ya?”

“Maybe?”

He leaned closer and kissed me on the lips almost orthodoxly, with no tongue involved. I let out a disappointed sound.

“Gotta try harder than that, then,” he chuckled.

“Stop being such a tease.”

“You don’t want it,” he sat on my lap, hands curling around my neck. “Just saying.”

“You’re right. Damn, why is it always this way?”

“I’m irresistible.”

“Yes you are.”

“And you like it.”

“Yes I do.”

I didn’t quite understand what I was saying, too busy peppering kisses on the back of his neck.

We fooled around for a bit, me cutting him off when he tried to talk me into blowing him off or dry humping him, because yeah, mom was still at home and wasn’t leaving any time soon. I already felt like I was soon to face her giving me a hard time while calling me a lovesick idiot and constantly inviting Nico over.

Which turned out to be a problem, because as soon as a Christmas effect was over, Nico went from a boy crying on my shoulder to a boy avoiding private conversations, as if he decided to ignore what happened.

Nah, let me correct myself. January was relatively good. Although he still wouldn’t ‘have this conversation with me’ and avoided my mother, he started to treat me differently. Now, there was something more than just sex and occasional spooning; still undefined, but real. He wore my ring and yeah, he flipped off a lot of people with it, and every single time I felt my chest warming up with pride. Once, when my Math teacher didn’t show up for his own class, we had Geography instead, which basically was a free period. Nico was in that exact class, and when I entered the classroom, he waved me over to sit next to him. When I did, he told me to put my arms on the desk and extend them, so he could use them as a pillow. I caught a few shocked looks from our classmates, and the rumor mill definitely went to overdrive that day.

We even spent Nico’s seventeenth birthday together. He decided to stick to his ‘rebellious outsider’ image, or whatever, because we ditched school to go to an abandoned building with a ton of energy drinks and a gun. I didn’t know anything about how Nico managed to get the latter, but let’s not discuss this.

“Y'know how to shoot?” he asked after we suited ourselves on the first floor, on the windowsill right next to a broken window. He placed the cans and the gun between us, pulling his knees up to his chest. A ray of sunshine lighted up his face, making it looking almost angelic.

“Nah.” Because why would I.

“Well, that’s unfortunate, because neither do I.”

We ended up laughing so hard that the energy drinks almost came out from our noses.

But as we all know, nice things don’t last long. In my case, everything was ruined by an upcoming Valentine’s Day.  

It was the week before February 14th, the time when students start asking each other out and crying in the bathrooms after getting rejected. Like I said, it was a fucking Catholic school, and still it didn’t make any difference; people were obsessed with their dates and the shitty ball organized by the student’s council (and everyone could smoke pot in the bathroom, _why the hell are you pointing at me_.)

As for me, I didn’t give a crap. Being a senior meant that I have visited the ball three times already, and all three times it would make me so sick that I wasn’t planning on going to prom, either. Same faces and same music every single time, anyways, so what do I miss?

I also found out that hanging out with Nico lately had somehow boosted up my popularity, which I found annoying, because dealing with sophomore girls that suddenly came up with a brilliant idea of asking out a rather reserved senior for a Valentine’s Ball was oh so annoying.

I politely refused every time, because, well, I’ve already explained it, but there was something else. I felt like if I accepted one of these offers, I would betray this fleeting mirage of Nico and me being together. Yes, technically we never were together, and we weren’t even friends to begin with, regardless of the Christmas episode. But still, it just didn’t seem right. If anything, I would definitely prefer spending time with him or even alone that with one of them.

When there were three days left until the ball, the whole thing happened.

I was walking down the hallway, desperately trying to avoid any eye contact so no girl would take it as an opportunity for a brief small talk and an invitation. Of-fucking-course it didn’t help me, which I realized only when I saw a really short girl standing on my way and smiling at me.

“Hi Percy,” she said casually. I tried to hide an exasperated sigh, preparing myself for what was coming.

“Hey?” I nonetheless replied, because that's how my mom raised me, even when a random girl tried to ask me out for an umpteenth time.

“I just really wanted to ask if you already have a date for a ball?” she blurted out overexcitedly. Poor me. I rolled my shoulders.

“Look, I'm really honored,” no I wasn’t, “but I’m not planning on going to the ball. Sorry.”

“Oh,” her face fell, as if she really expected me to pick her out of all of the girls that repeated the exact same thing for the past four days. “I see. You’re going with di Angelo, then?”

I said that I wasn’t going anywhere just a second ago. What was her problem?

“I don’t even know if he’s coming. And no, I’m not going with him.”

“Okay, m’sorry. It’s just that he said that he has someone to go with, and I just thought that it’s probably you since you guys are dating.”

I froze, not even able to refute the last part about dating. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I watched her apologizing once again and walking off to a group of her friends.

Nico said he had someone to go with to the ball. Fucking _someone_.

I gritted my teeth, praying that the wiser part of myself would stop me from punching somebody in the face.

What the _fuck_.

Everything was great just a moment ago. Fuck, everything was perfect. Maybe I didn’t have Nico all to myself, but at least there wasn’t anyone who was closer to him than me. I was with him for almost six months now, and after Christmas I started to think that maybe I stood a chance. I was actually thinking about ‘having this conversation’ on the Valentine’s Day, although Nico despised any romantic gestures (but he was a sucker for spooky ones, and I really wanted to know if there's more to that.)

And now there was a motherfucking _someone_ , and Nico decided to go to a third-rate school party with them. Great. Just wonderful. 

What do people usually do in situations like this? Either go and confront the guy or say fuck it. Which category did I fall into? None. Because I was so dumb that I couldn’t decide what to do.

A part of me wanted to choose the former option, pinning him against the wall and yelling everything I thought about him to his face. In addition, this part may or may not have wanted to fuck him so hard that he wouldn’t remember anything but my name after it. I don’t know, I swear. The other part insisted on avoiding him for the sake of my mental health, and it was the wisest option. I wasn’t a drama queen, after all, and Nico never said that we were exclusive. We had to be in some sort of a relationship for that. _Maybe it would be nice of me to give him and his someone some space,_ I thought.

It just tasted bitter on my tongue, that’s all.

I didn’t show up for our under-bleachers meeting that week, headed home right after the classes ended so I wouldn’t meet him in the locker-room, and tried to avoid him in the hallways. Maybe it was pathetic, I don’t know.

I tried to act like my junior self did just a year ago, before the whole thing has happened. It lasted two full days before Nico managed to catch me by my collar during the lunch period and corner me somewhere near the library, in the quietest part of school where I loved spending time when I was feeling out of sorts.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don't know whatcha talking about.”

He was looking me dead in the eye, and I was responding him respectively. The grip on my collar tightened.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem?”

“Could ask you the same question, dude.”

“Don’t fuck with me, I swear to-“

“Now that’s funny, thought you wanted me to fuck with you for the whole year. Guess how that turned out.”

“What the fuck are you-“

I curtly cut him off, pushing him in the chest and thus catching him off guard. He nearly choked when it was my turn to grasp his collar and put him on my place. _His_ place, I mean, it always was his place.

“Now listen closely, you asshole,” I growled, suddenly feeling like my stomach was on fire. For once, it was a pleasant sensation. “I’m not buying your shit anymore. If you really think you can play around with me like that, like one day you're at my dinner table chatting with my mom and then all of a sudden you have someone else to be with, I tell you what, that ain’t gonna work out anymore. You and your special someone can enjoy yourselves. All you gotta do is get off my dick.”

He went still under my body, eyes glued to my lips.

Oh no. God please no. I couldn’t stand him staring at my lips like that.

“You are a fucking _idiot_ ,” he said with an accent that suddenly sounded British.

“You better-“

He connected our lips without further hesitation, and for a moment I felt myself tipping over the edge, but it ended as soon as I broke the kiss.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” I said through clenched teeth, cupping his face rather gently, although my mind was still blinded with rage.

“Shut the fuck up.”

He wrapped his arms around my neck, just the way he did that night near the club, and spread his legs just enough for my knee to fit between them. I realized that my blood started rushing south.

“The _fuck_ you’re doing,” I repeated chokingly. “I’m not - fucking - doing this with you.”

“Nobody will-“

“No!” I tried to back off, but he held me tightly, that son of a bitch. “Stop. Stop doing this to me. I can’t do this.”

He replied to this by hooking one of his legs around my waist, and I groaned loudly, unable to resist the urge to grind up against him in one smooth movement. When he added the second leg, making me holding his whole body up, I stood frozen.

“I’m not doing this unless you answer me.”

“Answer to _what_.”

“Who the fuck are you going with to the ball.”

“What.”

“I said, who the fuck are you-“

“I never go to stupid school parties.”

Oh. Wait.

“Then who’s that someone the girl said about?”

He gave me a long, undecipherable look. The wave of freezing realization kicked me right in the guts.

“Percy. Put me down.”

I followed his order, feeling like I was about to be beheaded for being an utter idiot. The moment he was on the ground, he pushed me slightly to get some space.

“First of all,” he ran his fingers through his hair, looking insanely annoyed. “Pray tell, who is this someone you keep bringin’ up and what the fuck does some girl have to do with this?”

Oh boy, was that the hardest conversation I had in my life.

Nico kept rubbing the bridge of his nose throughout my rambling, repetitive monologue, as I struggled to deliver my main message: I’m sorry for being such a dumbass.

“So lemme clarify this one more time,” he eventually broke a tense silence when I finished, his voice suddenly cracking, “A random girl said I was going to that stupid ball with someone, and you never questioned that. You _assumed_ that it’s true and I somehow managed to fall in love with someone else while spending all of my time with you, and you didn’t even try to ask me but decided to ignore me you _motherfucker_ , driving me nuts because I couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout what I've done wrong?!”

“ _I’m sorry!_ Oh _God_ I’m so so sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t even know that-”

“Do you even realize that when I said I had someone to go with, I meant _you_?”

Everything around me went completely quiet, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Me?”

He now rubbed his whole face, looking tired as fuck, and muttered to himself, “Oh Lord help me, I fell for an idiot.”

Wait.

So. There wasn’t anyone apart from me with whom Nico spent his time, and turns out that _I_ am the special someone, which means that I was jealous of _my-fucking-self_ , and did he just say that he _fell_ for me?

I indeed was an idiot, so…

I wished Lord could help me too.

“Did you… mean it like that?” I asked in a shaking voice, unconsciously holding my breath.

“Yes, I did. I fucking did, I mean it. You are an idiot and I fell for you,” he gave me a little bump on the chest with his little adorable fist. I could kiss his hands for hours on end. “I did. It happened in November, actually.”

“Then why-“

“ _Because_ ,” he raised his voice and fidgeted on his feet, “Because I’m so freaking scared. I’m scared right now. I’m so- I don’t even know why I’m saying this. I thought that if I ignored it, it would all fade away, like it always did. You know- Maybe it didn’t occur to you in New York, but everyone is a loser in this city. Every-fucking-one, and they think I am a snob or maybe a chain-smoker, or a bad boy playing in a band, but really? I’m a loser. I’m gonna work in Target after graduating. My father will die this year, and you know it, and I know it, and everybody knows it. And you can say you’re a loser too, like, you’re here too, with me, have been for this whole fucking year. But you _do_ have places to go, you said that you wanted to go back to the East Coast. You _can_ do it, break free, y’know, because everybody knows that places like this are dead-ends. So you’re gonna leave me behind, I know you are. I’m scared of it. I’m a selfish brat, yeah, and it scares me.”

The world around me froze when I saw a single tear rolling down his cheek. He nervously wiped it off with his thumb, still not breaking the eye contact with me.

That’s what I was thinking about for months – about him revealing his true, self-conscious, insecure self, the glimpses of whom I’ve been catching so rarely, but it always was so _sincere_. I was right: he feared me chaining him up and then leaving, feared the truth he just blurted out being found out by everybody around him, feared himself.

And I could help him deal with at least one of these fears, because I wasn’t planning on leaving him behind any time soon. Yes, I had a place to go to, but was it worth it if it meant being apart from the two people that I loved the most?

I knew the answer.

“Nico,” I hesitated for one long moment, trying to choose right words to shape my thoughts, “if you told me that you'd love me if I stayed by your side forever, I would do it.”

His lower lip started trembling.

“These six months… I’ve been wondering if I would ever stand a chance with you, because it seemed like you wouldn’t let anyone close enough. I couldn’t help but question if I could ever become the one you would pick from all the people you had around you. I don’t care if I’ll get into East Side colleges, or if you’ll work in Target, or if I’ll be called an idiot for letting the chance slip. I want to be here if _you_ are here.”

“Percy-“

I saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes and hastened to say, “C’mere.”

He fell into my arms, burying his face against my shoulder. I closed my eyes, nuzzling his soft curls, breathing in the smell of lavender.

“If I’ll ever leave you behind, I dare you to punch me in the face,” I whispered, pulling him so close that it became hard to breathe.

He sobbed, “I’ll be sure to break your fucking nose.”

“Deal.”

I loved him. Sometimes it was challenging, sometimes I wanted to quit and start over – make the fifth attempt - but then I would see his dark eyes looking in mine, his nose that ancient Greeks would be envious of, the cupid bow of his upper lip, and I would want to punch _myself_ in the face just for the thought of ever giving up on him.

That moment, when I could feel his heart pounding faster than a Nascar car along with my own, I knew that the months of constant doubts and struggle had finally paid off, and it was totally worth it.

The next morning was so, so different from what I had become used to during the three and a half years of school, because I was now legally eligible of coming up to Nico who was looking for something in his locker and saying, “Hey.”

“Yeah?” He slammed his locker shut, leaning on it while turning his body to face me.

“So, if you don’t have a date for a ball… would you like to go with me?”

“I’d rather go with any of those girls, Perce,” he shrugged, sneaking a glance at a group of girls who were standing near the corner and pretending to talk to each other whilst openly staring at us. “At least they’re smarter than you.”

“But none of them is your boyfriend.”

“True.”

“Does that mean...?”

“Yeah. Now shut up.”

I leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the nose, making him jerk. I heard a few gasps coming from the girls.

“Dude, I’m not exactly a fan of PDA.”

“Are you sure?” and another kiss on the cheek. The heat started flushing Nico’s face, but he somehow maintained an uninterested expression.

“Never been so sure before,” and with that, he rested his arms on my shoulders and stepped closer with a certain intention.

His lips tasted of a moisturizing lipstick I bought him yesterday, after we decided to cut the classes and wander around the city, sharing kisses in the back-alleys.

“Did all of them pass out?” he asked, smirking, when he finally let me go. I casted a glance at the group that now couldn’t take their eyes off us, standing frozen.

“Mostly. You should give me another one to make sure.”

“You’re one hell of a fraud, Perseus.”

“C’mon.”

Instead, he kissed me on my jaw and broke the hug.

“Gotta go to class. Meet me at lunch?”

“Can we hold hands, at least?” I grinned.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Love you too.”

He kindly showed me my own gift, receiving an _aww_ from me, and turned around, heading to his classroom. My eyes stayed glued on his ass as he walked away, his backpack nearly slipping off his shoulders. The girls behind me were doing exactly the same, their hysterical chatter getting louder. I smirked to myself, barely bothered by this.

I was certain about three things.

First, Nico belonged to me just the way I belonged to him, and no girl or guy could ever come between us as long as I take care of it.

Second, as soon as I hear back from colleges here, in Sacramento, I will enroll and stay, because I’m not the one who breaks promises.

Third, I should arrange a meeting with Will Solace from Demigod Power and apologize for every single nasty thought that popped into my head while he was sitting on a bar stool beside me. After all, he was the one who I should be thanking for the rest of the year, because it was him who tapped me on the shoulder and introduced me to Nico di Angelo.

**Author's Note:**

> yep that's it


End file.
